Surpassing the Shadows
by SnowCrazy15
Summary: Al wants to leave his father's shadow. Amara wants to understand the ghosts of her past. Scorpius wants to shake off the darkness of his name. Can an unlikely friendship between the three bring light to things lost? Or will the shadows drag them down until nothing is left but the darkness of things passed? Future m/m slash.


_I do have a plot in mind for this story, although it might take some time to get to. I'm hoing the ride will be entertaining enough, so stand by! My goal is to upload a chapter at least once a week. It'll keep me focused on something other than drowning in the vast ocean that is Academia. Please review and let me know how I'm doing ;-)_

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Albus saw her first. Or at least he thought he did.

She was stood quite still, a sharp contrast to the bustling hum of the platform around them. He wasn't sure what it was about her that drew his attention, but he found himself staring nonetheless. Maybe it was because he couldn't see anyone fussing over her like his mum kept doing to him. He sighed as another lot of fingers raked themselves through his mop of raven hair.

"Are you sure you remembered everything, Alby? Broom, socks, extra quills?"

Al bit back a snide remark which was on his tongue too often lately before giving his mum a tight smile.

It was hard, thinking about how long he would actually be away from his mum. At most, he was only away from her for two weeks when he visited Uncle Charlie in Romania. Even then James was with him, and Rose, and Hugo.

As if merely thinking of he redheads summoned them, he heard their presence immediately. Shortly followed by Lily's squeal as Hugo tugged her pigtails.

"Stop it, Hugo!" she bellowed, her dark eyes flaring in anger. Before she could jump him, Al saw his dad put a strong hand on her shoulder. She pouted but smiled when looking up into their dad's warm green eyes.

Al listened as his parents talked with their Auntie Mi and Uncle Ron. He was barely listening when he eyes were drawn again to the girl.

She was about ten steps away and standing like a statue. He briefly wondered if she was a ghost but set against it when he saw the trunk-like luggage at her feet. It didn't look solid like his trunk, but was rounder and seemed to be some kind of material as it seeped in the middle. Next to that was a small rucksack that he just recognised as Muggle-made from Auntie Mi buying him one last year for his birthday.

The girl was tall and skinny, but he couldn't tell how old she was from a glance. He did see that she was wearing muggle clothes. Tight grey leggings, a long jumper-type thing with a hood and soft boots that came half way up her shins.

He noticed her hair then. It was pooling down and around her shoulders like some kind of satin waterfall. As soon as he saw it he was completely taken aback. In the faint light it was dizzyingly shiny and curled in a way that like the models in his mums magazines. He kind of hoped that she would turn around. Someone who had like that must have been pretty.

"What'cha ogling, Snake?" Al flinched but pointedly ignored his brother, who followed his line of sight anyway.

He hated being called snake, but apparently his brother loved taking out his jealousy on the only Potter child that inherited his dad's Parseltongue. So to add insult to injury, Al sent such a colourful curse in the snaketongue that he drew his dad's attention.

Al smiled sheepishly before his dad was thankfully drawn back to Uncle Ron's latest rant.

Sadly, the girl had gotten in his brother's line of sight, despite how short sided the ass hat was.

James gave a low whistle.

"She's pretty, Alby. Thanks for pointing her out for me."

Al sneered at his brother but any comment he had was cut off with the arrival of the Hogwarts Express. The shift in the air was instant and people began to flurry in a heated panic. He heard a cruel insult from James, jibbing again that the Black Sheep of the Potters would be in Slytherin. Al bit back but was eased by his father's soothing words.

He gave his dad a hug before his luggage was packed onto the train without him even noticing, and then Rosie was tugging him forward.

Al took a quick glance around for the girl but couldn't see her and guessed she was on the train. Instead he hugged his mother again and had to pull away before she crushed his ribs. Then he gave Lily a teasing kiss on her cheek and only barely jumped out of the way of her claws.

He was sure she was growing her nails just to swipe at him.

Then he was being dragged onto the train by James, who somewhere, hidden deep _deep_ down, still had a slither of brotherly instinct.

Al sighed as the train started to move. He was sad to watch as the faces of his family drew away, but quite glad to be actually leaving. He had a horrible summer, especially when he got his letter despite James's taunts that he didn't actually have magic, he just thought he did.

Then they had to buy wands and books and robes and cauldrons and quills and… he shuddered at the mere memory of all the shopping. He would certainly not be doing it again. Ever.

Letting the though cheer him, Al started down the corridor, intent on finding a carriage that hadn't already been infected by his brother's quick tongue.

oOo

She sighed.

Goddamn, what a day.

It was bad enough that she had to go to the blasted school, never mind having to be dragged around all day with Madame Madeline and all the girls from St Pennies. She had to carry books, be scorned by all the girls as she tried on her robes and then teased when she had to pick out a wand.

The bit of wood sat heavily in the front fold of her hoodie.

She pulled the length out, studying it once again. it was a deep red colour with a black handle. Everything about it was weird. Especially the constant hum. It always throbbed like a loaded gun and she hated it. When she had touched it, a bolt of lightning had shot through her arm and she nearly threw it away before the old Wand Maker insisted that it was the one for her. She disagreed, especially when the other girls' wands had glowed warmly and they smiled happily.

She grunted and shoved it back in her hoodie, glad the fabric muffle the constant vibration.

The small carriage she found was thankfully empty, but she could tell it was probably the least used ones, especially because it was tiny. The last carriage of the train and hopefully the last place anyone would look.

Closing her eyes, Amara tried to get comfy on the seat but it was practically impossible, what with the constant shaking and the screeches from the other kids.

She barely bit back a sneer. Kids. They were horrible. Most of her life had been in seclusion, and the few months in St Pennies hadn't been enough to teach her how they worked. But it was all so strange. All the fake smiles and banter, the games and the touching – jeez, the bloody _touching_. Why would someone want to hold her hand? Brush her hair? She was perfectly capable.

Amara really didn't understand other people, but that was probably for the best.

A memory stirred somewhere in the mausoleum of her mind, but it was hazy, like trying to remember a dream. Some of it was crystal clear and some of it was just just a jumble of images that didn't make sense.

She could remember the feeling though. It was one brief moment of clarity as she saw a beautiful face. A pale, slender face with brilliant blue eyes and hair that paled the sun.

_"Love you, little star."_

The only sentence that ever really made sense in her mind. As she got older she realised that the woman must have been her mother, because Amara's eyes were now the same agonising blue. It even hurt to look at them in the mirror, so it was no wonder people stared.

Just as she began to drift into her memories, a sound stirred her enough to open an eye. The head poking around the slightly parted door made her scowl, but didn't scare the intruder away.

Amara stared quiet as he stared, knowing that most of the time she just made people uncomfortable and they left. It was what she preferred.

And yet, the boy broke into a huge grin. She cocked a brow. Surely a smile like that actually hurt?

"Hi!" he peeped, stepping into the cabin without invitation. Amara just watched him, wondering how long it would take this one to deem her 'snobbish'.

Yet Amara jumped when his hand was thrust towards her. She vaguely recognised the gesture but wasn't sure she really understood it, so instead she just continued to stare at him. The boy didn't notice, instead shaking his hand a bit.

"I'm Al."

Amara nodded her head once, really not sure what this Al wanted.

The boy seemed oblivious by her, and lowered his hand as is she had completed whatever gesture it was used for. He plopped himself right next to her, causing her to finally move. She shifted herself to better study him.

"I don't really like to tell people this, but my name is actually Albus Potter."

His deep green eyes flickered to her, and she guessed he seemed almost nervous about it. Her stare didn't waver and he suddenly brightened.

"Good."

He nodded to himself and sat back, clearly intending to stay. So finally, she decided to battle through her confusion.

"Good?"

His smile hadn't wavered and he turned it onto her full-force. It was so genuine that her tongue was suddenly really heavy.

"Yeah. It's good that you don't recognise my name."

"It is?" she asked quietly, afraid that speaking above a whisper would somehow burst the bubble of happiness that the boy was engulfed in. Al nodded eagerly, kicking off his shoes and tucking his legs under him, obviously finding the seats just as uncomfortable.

"Yep. Really good."

His eyes flashed with something and somehow, she found herself smiling back. As soon as she did, though, she saw his face drop in that all too familiar mask of shock. Inwardly she cried, but outwardly she simply sat straighter and waited for the onslaught that was no doubt coming.

oOo

Al was speechless. Absolutely, completely speechless.

The girl was pretty. Like, crazy pretty. He had seen pretty girls before and even though he didn't like them quite as his brother did, he still knew they were pretty. But this girl…

Merlin. She was _really_ pretty. Her hair was nice, but it was nothing compared to her face. Her skin was pale like milk and her eyes were so shockingly blue that he thought it must be an Enhancer Charm. He had seen his mum use them when she went with dad to big Ministry parties to make her brown eyes deep and her lips redder.

Although the girl's lips were already red. Deep red, and they dipped and bowed nicely, unlike Rosie's too-thin upper lip. Her cheeks were dusted with something pink, making her look like she was just about to blush.

Everything about her had an air of something regal, like a princess. He got a flash of how much Lily would like the girl and would dress her up in something sparkly while weaving ribbons in her hair.

And yet what she looked like didn't nearly have such an affect on him like her smile did. Merlin, Mordred and Morgana, her whole face lit up like Christmas. He though that she belonged in a museum where people would pay thousands of Galleons to see her smile.

But as soon as she smiled, it was gone, and her brows creased together while the colour in her eyes dimmed. She folded her arms and turned to the window, and he recognised the angry pout that Lily liked to give him when he took her doll.

Wondering why she was angry, Al leant back. He hadn't said anything wrong, had he? Although he tended to be wretched when it came to girls.

The one time he said that Sally Morgan's dress made her look like a porcupine, he had been chased by a mob of her angry friends. And then his mum had even told him off! What was so wrong with that? He had looked at his dad helplessly, but he just smiled and raised his hands as if warding off some monster.

"You'll understand when you're older," he had chuckled.

Hmph. Well being older didn't help now, did it? Al shoved his hand into his pocket and fingered his wand out of habit. He always kept it there, ever since he had got it when he was eight. Well, you never knew when James would turn your water into pee, or Hugo would enchant the cutlery to bite you.

Thinking of Hugo, Al got a sudden idea.

"Hey! Want to see something cool?"

Surprisingly, the girl's head turned around and she regarded him with curious eyes. Encouraged, Al looked around the carriage for some kind of paper.

He frowned after a quick search before turning to the girl again. "Do you have any parchment?"

She frowned before looking around like he had. When she noticed her weird not-trunk, he watched as she pulled it down and laid it flat on the bench. She pulled it open with – a zipper! – before digging through. She pulled out some kind of book that revealed perfectly white parchment. She pulled out a page and held it out to him. He took it eagerly, suddenly realising that it was paper.

"Paper! This is so cool! You must be Muggleborn, right?"

One of her perfectly arched eyebrows shot up as her intense eyes watched him. He squirmed under the look, feeling like he often did when he dad was angry at him.

More to distract himself than anything, Al pulled out his wand. He held the parchment – _paper _– up to the level of his eyes and thought intently about the spell his Nan had taught him.

"_Avis Charta,_" he breathed. He felt the small tug of magic in his wand before a small sliver of warm orange light seeped into the paper.

He heard the girl gasp as the paper jumped into the air, twisting and contorting until it burst, leaving a beautiful paper blue jay. It soared through the air, chirping happily, its paper wings unfurling and whipping the air.

He heard something then. It sounded like a note of music, until he realised the girl had laughed. Al smiled and watched as the bird flew towards her, and she positively beamed when it landed on her open palms. Al felt giddy as he watched her cooing at the bird. It preened itself against her ears and he couldn't help but feel proud that he had made the girl smile.

"This is brilliant," she said, and he finally got a good listen of her voice. He was surprised because it was really nice. It was a voice that would be nice at singing.

After a while, the bird flew from her fingers and sailed high into the air before letting one sweet note and bursting into a small spray of glitter. She leant forward and let the glitter land into her hand, and he almost felt bad that the spell had run out. He almost wanted to ask Rosie for a permanent spell.

"I can make another one," he offered, but she just smiled and waved him away.

When she leant back into her chair, he saw her go to zip up her trank-bag. Just as she did, he saw the glint of something silver within.

"What's that?" he asked before he could stop himself.

The girl started before reaching in and pulling out something. He frowned and moved closer, sitting on the seat by her side as she lay the thing in her hand. It was a rectangle of metal with a small circle on the bottom half and a black square on the top half. Some kind of wire dangled from the top and he felt like he knew what it was, but couldn't remember.

"It's… an iPod," she said slowly, as if she couldn't believe that he didn't know what it was.

Al raised an eyebrow and gave her a grin. "Is it a Muggle thing?"

She frowned but gave him a reluctant nod. Then she grabbed one of the two ends of the wire and handed it wordlessly to him. He took it without really knowing what it was for, until he saw her put the other end into her ear.

He cottoned on, realising it was a listening device like his Uncle George's Extendable Ears. He shoved it in, only to be stopped by a small giggle.

oOo

Amara chuckled as – Alan? Alber? – put the earphone in the wrong way. She shook her head and reached forward, righting the bud before clicking the button on the small device. His eyes lit up like the screen and she found herself smirking. It really was a strange world that they lived in.

She wasn't a stranger to the Wizarding World, she had just been kept from the majority of it.

As she tried to bring up a memory, the usual fuzziness came back and her temples started to throb. Instead of giving herself a headache, she chose a song from her playlist and settled back to listen – only to be scared out of her skin when (Alex?) yelped. She stopped the music and turned to him, only to see him staring at the iPod in wonder.

The wonder on his face was incredible and yet another laugh broke free, catching his attention. She pressed play again and tensed, hoping he didn't react again. Instead he just continued to watch it as if the singer would pop out and say hello.

After just one song, he gave her a wide-eyed look, making the green in his eyes stand out sharply. She frowned and handed the device to him.

"Don't break it."

He nodded and accepted it as if he had just been given a precious gem.

Even though the iPod was one of the older models, it was Amara's pride and joy. As far as she could remember, it was the only vaguely expensive thing she had owned. From what memories she did have, her childhood wasn't particularly eventful. She had mostly stayed inside and watched telly or played dollies.

Then her mind drew a blank until years later, but she shoved the memory away. It wasn't something she liked to relive.

Amara had won the iPod when she had been moved to St Pennies Orphanage. They had a small Christmas talent show and one of the carers, Heather, persuaded her to join in. To Heather's delight, Amara had won and the prize was the iPod. That was when the girls started to shun her. But it was fine, because she had her iPod. Heather had taken it home and put music on it for her, and when the nights were the darkest, Amara had the music.

She loved music, mostly because it said everything that she couldn't.

Amara was suddenly aware that (Aaron?) had said something. She flushed and looked at him questioningly. As he opened his mouth to repeat himself, their attention was drawn upwards to the face hovering in the door.

"Alby! What are you- oh. Hi."

Amara blinked as the boy smiled. It was a lazy, easy smile, but she didn't find the need to smile back like 'Ably' did. She huffed. Alby. Strange magicfolk.

"Who's your friend, Snake?"

From the way colour blossomed in Alby's cheeks, she guessed the name wasn't a particularly fond one. A stab of annoyance hit her then. Yes, she knew that pain of words very well.

Her eyes regarded the new boy again. He was older than she was, but not that much older. His hair was a light brown but stuck out messily like Alby's. Looking closer, Amara could make out similarities between the two boys and guessed they were related. Although the new one didn't have green eyes, more a sluggish brown.

And yet the new boy stepped into the carriage in a similar fashion as the other. She bit back a sigh and instead turned her attention to the boy who had shamelessly shoved Alby out of the way and sat himself at her side.

Amara frowned until she noticed just how close the other boy was.

"Hi," he purred. "My name is James Potter."

James's words seemed to carry weight that she didn't recognise, and once again he held out his hand. She continued to stare, suddenly not liking the boy before her. Especially as she watched Alby picking himself up off the floor.

"That won't work. She doesn't know who the Potters are."

James blanched before looking back at her, wide-eyed.

Amara raised an eyebrow and continued to watch him, unimpressed. He took a moment to fumble for words and Alby took the chance to take a seat opposite. Amara suddenly wanted to be next to him. She barely listened as James launched into a vivid explanation, saying something about Dark Lords and wars.

Before he could finish, Amara was on her feet and sitting heavily next to Alby. She saw him shoot a wicked smirk to James, setting the brunette's jaw firmly.

Then James was pulling out a wand and muttering something under his breath. She saw the shimmer of magic as Alby tensed, and without thinking, Amara raised her hand and demanding the magic to stop. It did, bouncing away and hitting the window with a loud crack.

For a moment, the two of them stared at her, causing her to shift uneasily. It was something she had only done once before, and the memory of it was fuzzy. She had been in some kind of busy street and someone had pointed what she thought was a stick at her and in fear she raised her hands, begging it not to hit her. It didn't.

"H… how did you do that?" whispered the elder, all his previous anger gone.

She shrugged, not really knowing and yet not willing to share that. To keep her hands busy, Amara offered the bud to Alby again and he took it. She gave him the device as well, letting him play with it how he willed.

oOo

Al inwardly danced as his brother brooded. In honesty, he was surprised when the girl had moved to him, but happy.

It was mostly just because she had snubbed her brother. But also because he had never been picked over James, ever. For anything. When they played Quidditch with the neighbours, Al was always the last to be picked, mostly because James was the captain one team and Gabe, James's best friend, was the captain of the other. They both liked to torment him. He guessed they plotted different ways to make his life hell.

Really, he had been ecstatic when James had gone to Hogwarts, and then terrified when it was his year to start. No doubt he would be in Griffindor and have to spend the next seven years living in a special kind of hell.

Al sighed and started to fiddle with the thing, what had she called it? An iPod? What a peculiar name. How Muggles came up with these things, he's never know. Thanks to Auntie Mi, Al knew a lot about the Muggle world and had often gone there with her and Rosie, sometimes Hugo.

A soft tune started to play. It was nice but he didn't know it. He felt the girl beside him relax slightly. Maybe she liked this song? He opened his man to ask her when his words were cut off by a glare from his brother. James sat watching them both, his eyes burning in his sockets.

Albus frowned. That was a new stare.

Ignoring his brother, Al let the music play, listening to the words. It was some kind of love song, maybe?

Al didn't know when he drifted off, but he was woken with a jolt from the train that caused him to hit something. He frowned when he felt warmth against his cheek.

Sitting up, he felt heat colour his cheeks as he realised he had been sleeping on the girl's shoulder.

She didn't seem to mind as she was scribbling furiously onto the paper that sat on her lap. He studied it for a moment, breath taken by the picture there. It seemed she was an amazing artist as well as being pretty.

The picture was of two people sitting on the floor, their legs crossed and their heads together as if sharing deep secrets.

"That's amazing."

The girl jumped, slamming the book to her chest and covering it. He saw the dust of pink in her cheeks brighten before he smiled, hopefully reassuringly. Al got to his feet, glad to see that James was long gone. He looked out the window and saw the sun was sinking, and a quick Tempus Charm told him that it was already quarter to four. They were supposed to arrive at half five.

His stomach growled and he realised that he probably missed the lunch cart.

Al flopped unceremoniously onto the seat, causing the girl to stare at him. He gave her a small smile.

"I think we missed lunch," he said regretfully.

Her face didn't change as she got up, a movement that was smooth and caused him to chuckle in surprise. She moved like some kind of cat.

"I just realised that I don't even know your name."

The girl didn't turn, instead intent on her trunk-bag. She was quiet for so long that he didn't think she would answer, and when she did he only just heard her.

"Amaryllis."

"Am… Amaryllis?" He didn't think the name strange because, really, some wizards were just plain odd.

She nodded, still digging in her back.

"Do your friends call you Amaryllis? What about Amy? Or Mary? Or Illis?"

She shrugged, still searching. "Don't have any friends."

A sudden pang of sympathy went to her. From the bluntness of her words, he didn't doubt that, but he couldn't believe it anyway. She was pretty and seemed nice, if a little quiet.

"Well how about this? You can call me Al if I can call you Amy?"

Finally she looked up, a distasteful look on her face.

"I'll call you Alby and you can call me Amara. How about that?"

Al frowned at his mother's pet name for him, wondering where she heard it. Then he realised it was once of James's many slurs for him. But coming from Amara, he didn't mind it so much. It didn't make him feel like a baby.

"OK. Deal."

He held out his hand as she came closer. Again she got that strange, uncertain look on her face as she regarded his hand. He chuckled.

"Don't you know what a handshake is?"

She scrunched her nose and sat down.

"Not really. Here."

Into his outstretched hand, Amara shoved a small bar of something. He looked it over, not recognising the chocolate, but tearing into it anyway.

He only looked up when he heard a snort.

Expecting a sneer, Al was shocked when he saw her shaking her head playfully, causing her black hair to shimmer over her shoulders. Amara ate an identical chocolate bar and they sat in a companionable silence.

oOo

She was perplexed. Normally by now people would be shouting or insulting her, and yet the boy stayed. Amara guessed he was nice enough. He didn't seem to want to hurt her or own her, and she was glad for it. Really, she wouldn't have thought about going to the school. It was only Heather that convinced her.

Amara gave Alby a small smile as she listened to him prattle on. It was nice, just listening.

He told her about the school, as she had drawn a blank when he mentioned it. She had been told enough but she didn't really know much about it. He told her about the four Houses and the obvious rivalry between two of them. He repeated mercilessly that he simply refused to be a Slytherin. Apparently it was full of criminals and scoundrels.

Well, Amara had had her fill of _them_.

Griffindor was the name that stood out the most in his words. He gushed about how his mum and dad were in Griffindor, his Aunts and Uncles and even his godparents. Although, his godmother was Ravenclaw, but it didn't seem to dent him at all. She watched him, bemused as he launched into tale after tale. His dad seemed to be quite a big shot in the Wizarding World.

By the time he stopped for breath, the sky was darkening and Amara could see the shadow of a building in the distance.

Alby suddenly flushed. "We need to change!"

And with that, he was gone. Amara watched the vacant space of where he was sitting for a moment before chuckling to herself. She had certainly never met anyone quite like Albus Potter before.

oOo

Al laughed in delight as he tugged Amara from the train. She was moving slowly, obviously overwhelmed by the castle. Al had been there before, and he was shocked when he first saw it too. But he was starving. And he wanted to be Sorted. And he wanted to see where Amara got Sorted. He kind of wished that she would be put in his House, wherever that was.

_Not Slytherin._

Yes, definitely not Slytherin. He hoped that Amara wasn't put in there either. She was too nice for their greedy fingers.

She clung to Al's hand like it was a lifeline as he pried her from the train. It was just a flurry of motion and Al was suddenly dazed. He had no idea where to go and he couldn't see Rosie or James. Then there was a squeeze on his fingers and he smiled, looking at the bright eyes next to him.

Of course, she was drawing stares. And he blushed, knowing that they would be whispering about them both, but he didn't care.

"First Years! All First Years, this way!"

Al sighed, hearing the sound above the din. He followed the sound of the voice, as did many other wide-eyes. As the group got closer and more compact, he was glade of the steady pressure in his palm.

They stopped before a tweedy looking man who glazed them all over, seeming to be bored.

The cluster of First Years made a hum of activity, and Al smiled when he finally caught Rosie's eye. She gave a smile of relief before pushing her way towards him. Al had always liked Rosie. She could be a bit bossy sometimes, but he loved her just like he loved Lily.

"Isn't this exciting, Al?" she squealed, grabbing his arm and squeezing. He nodded, suddenly aware that the warm hand wasn't in his anymore. He looked around quickly and spotted Amara easily. Her blue eyes were panicked as he saw two people talking to her. One of them was short and portly, and he had a mass of dark curls on his head.

The other had hair like moonlight. For a moment, Al was caught in the colour of it. So bright against the darkness – it couldn't be real.

His eyes then locked with Amara's, and she was clearly distressed, even though her face looked serene. Al pushed his way forward, focusing in on their conversation.

"…one as you will surely know. We take good care of our own, and we know the importance of good breeding."

"Sounds like your talking about dogs or something," cut in Albus smoothly, although from the way Rosie blanched, maybe not so smooth.

The blond boy looked up and Al was suddenly taken away by the intensity of the eyes. Dear Merlin, he'd never seen eyes like that. They were like quicksilver, dancing and changing and yet staying the same. He was so intent on staring that he didn't hear whatever the boy had said.

"Sorry, what?"

The boy sneered, a look that marred his face ad made Al frown.

"I said that it's none of your business."

"What isn't?"

Rosie clucked next to him and he suddenly felt like he was missing something. The boy sniggered with his curly-haired friend, and the way they looked at him he guessed he'd just embarrassed himself.

"It is none of your business of whom we speak."

"Oh. OK. Coming, Amara?"

Her eyes flashed cobalt before she nodded, taking his outstretched hand and letting him pull her through the mass just as they started to move.

Al kept her hand safely in his as they moved, all the while looking around for a glimpse of silver hair.

~TBC~


End file.
